After he's at her door
by Loz06
Summary: NeilAndrea...all NeilAndrea. Neil arrives at Andrea’s late one night, much is said by both, but Andrea still feels unsure of what she should do.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: After he's at her door.

**Author**: Loz

**E-Mail**: loz06(at)yahoo(dot)com

**Rating**: T

**Category**: Neil/Andrea...All Neil/Andrea

**Series**: Yes…Stay tuned another three possibly four.

**Spoilers**: No, I think everyone's safe.

**Archive (if applicable)**: The good, the bad and the very ugly it's all appreciated.

**Summary**: Neil arrives at Andrea's late one night, much is said by both, but Andrea still feels unsure of what she should do.

**Author's Notes**: My first in this genre…fillin' in the mushy bits we don't get on TV. Please forgive any glaring inaccuracies I live outside the UK.

**Disclaimers**: So no one comes knocking at my door…I don't own any characters featured here.

* * *

There's a distinct chill in the air although Andrea is indoors. On the witness stand she feels vulnerable and alone. The room is dark except for the main players who are lit by harsh down lights. She turns her head, shocked to see her father sitting in judgement - the only man whose opinion has ever mattered to her. Neil is sitting in the defendants' chair, head down avoiding contact. Is that shame written on his face?

On the jury sit her peers and friends, Kerry, Yvonne, Honey, Lance, Steve and Amber. Their expressions are a tossed salad of emotion - disappointment, anger and feelings of betrayal. Amber seems to be the only one who thinks it's an achievement she's seeing a married man. In the crowd sits CID, Jack Meadows, Gina Gold and Adam Okaro. Andrea assumes they're dreaming up ways to fire her with maximum humiliation.

The light dims till only one remains, it's the most frightening of them all. Standing at the prosecution table is Philippa Manson.

"Ms Dunbar, do you consider yourself to be a good person?" Philippa moves from behind the table.

"Yes." Andrea answers hesitantly, telling herself to be careful.

"Do you also consider yourself to be a good policewoman?"

"There's a certain amount I still have to learn."

"But for your experience level, you'd consider yourself to be doing a good job." Philippa steps closer.

"Yes."

"What qualities do you think a good person and policewoman has?" Andrea knows enough about Philippa Manson to know this line of questioning is going somewhere damaging. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach she figures it out.

"I don't know, loyal, dependable, compassionate, friendly and kind."

"What about honesty, fidelity, ethics, virtue and decency?" Philippa suggests.

"I guess." Andrea treads carefully knowing Philippa is getting close to dropping the bomb.

"And would you consider, say having an affair with a married man to be in conflict with the qualities I just mentioned and you have told the court you embody?"

"Anyone would." Andrea tenses. Philippa is only a question away. The lights on her are brighter and she can once again see the familiar faces in her life, judgement written all over them.

"Then tell the court Ms Dunbar, are you not currently conducting an affair with my husband?"

* * *

Andrea Dunbar sits up suddenly in bed. Around her the bed sheets are crumpled and untucked. Her head is damp, a fine sheen of sweat clinging to her forehead. Covering her chest with her right hand she concentrates on calming her heart that is galloping as though she is chasing a criminal down an alley.

A sudden chirping makes her jump and reignites her thumping heart. She grabs her phone, immediately silencing its peace-shattering tune. Flopping back onto her pillow, she notices for the first time it is damp as well. It's a matter of moments before the night's quiet is broken again, this time she studies the number. Not recognising it leaves her without a name to curse.

"Hello." She says through gritted teeth. Every part of her expects this to be a wrong number, so she rolls over getting comfortable in her bed again.

"Andrea." She knows the voice and has times when she's wanted to shout to all that she'd recognise the voice anywhere, anytime. It's the voice that trips her heartbeat in a different way.

"Neil." He sounds distant but his voice always has a warm enveloping effect on her.

"Andrea."

"Neil, its four thirty in the morning." Andrea rubs her eyes and sits up again.

"I'm outside your door Andrea."

"What's going on Neil?" Next to her, Andrea switches on the lamp and squints for a moment.

"Please, Andrea." Something in his voice tells her not to question further.

She wraps her dressing gown around herself and fumbles her way through the dark. The scant light is enough to outline the furniture and prevent lower limb damage. A quick check of the peephole confirms it is Neil. His right arm leans against the doorframe supporting his body weight, his tie is askew and his head hung.

The vague lighting of the stairwell casts a strange colour over his skin.

He looks up as she opens the door, meeting his eyes to hers.

"You're hurt." She says with realisation. Later she'd think back to this moment as a protective, caring instinct kicks in, it hasn't run this deep and emotional in a long time.

She takes his hand and ushers him through the doorway, pointing him to the sofa. The smudge of grey on his left cheek is minor compared to the cut on his forehead and the bruised left eye that is developing. She studies each inch of his face and reaches a hand to delicately touch the swelling on the lower right of his jaw. He winces with the slight pressure of her hand; covering it with his own he moves their hands further up his face.

"I have to get you to St Hughes." Andrea says watching his eyes shut down slowly.

"I've been checked out," he replies, his voice soft and a far cry from his usual commanding tone.

In the bathroom Andrea finds her first aid products lacking, there are no children prone to scraped knees in this flat. On her way to the kitchen she glances at Neil who is resting his head on the back of the sofa, eyes closed.

"I'm not much of a one woman emergency team." Andrea apologises as she sits back down, Neil smiles.

"Someone banged you up good." She waits for him to flinch as the cotton doused with antiseptic brushes over a cut. He neither flinches nor speaks.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" His eyes open studying her face as she continues to tend to him.

"They didn't react to the raid well." His voice is soft, a hand reaching to twirl a section of her dark hair.

"That much is written all over your face." He smiles at the humour. She waits for further detail, placing ice in a bag. His head falls back and eyes close again, it's a few minutes till Andrea speaks again.

"Why did you come here Neil?" The ice pack rests in her hands; her eyes watch her hands manipulating the cubes in the bag.

"I wanted to see you." It should be a simple and acceptable reason.

"So what, you had a bit of an adrenaline rush earlier in the night and you thought you'd cap it off with some sex?" His eyes fly open, features hardening.

"Do I look capable of carrying you over my shoulder to the bedroom?" His hand reaches for hers but she shuns the gesture.

"I don't know what you think Neil, you arrive here in the early hours of the morning, face a mess, I fix you up and maybe you think the service doesn't end there."

"Don't be ridiculous Andrea, I didn't ask you to play nurse."

"That's just it you haven't asked me anything, you didn't even ask if I would come to the door, you've barely said a dozen words." The ice rolls onto the floor and Andrea stands unsure of her next move, is it to show him the door?

"Andrea, I came here because I wanted to see you, because I had a hard night at work, because I knew you'd understand that after all the debriefing and the pub at some point you need to drop the subject or you'll beat yourself up over the smallest mistake forever to come...because you're uncomplicated and you understand the job and..."

"And what?" Her legs bend beneath her, perched on the edge of the sofa again.

"And I wanted to see you."

"I'm sorry." Neil opens his arms, an invitation to curl up against him that she accepts. She pulls the throw from the top of the back of the sofa. It hits their heads as it tumbles down, eventually manipulating it so it covers them both.

"I'm happy you're here." She whispers against his chest.

* * *

It is the sun that awakes Andrea, creeping over her eyelids as it does the horizon each morning. She finds herself looking at Neil's tie, still pulled loose above two undone buttons. A protective arm has curved gently around her middle. He'd never stayed till the morning before...not that he'd arrived early in the night. She lightly presses a finger against the dusting of chest hair, which his open shirt has exposed.

"Hope I didn't wake you." His voice precedes a chaste kiss on the forehead. She slides up the sofa till her head rests on the pillow next to him.

"How'd we get to be lying down?" Andrea asks brushing her index finger along the underside of his chin.

"You fell asleep against me last night and some of my limbs started to go numb so I had to move us." He follows with a proper good morning kiss.

"Were you awake just then?" Andrea tests the swelling, running her hands over his jaw and mentally comparing it to earlier that morning.

"Yeah, I was just lying here watching you sleep." His eyes leave hers, throat clears and head dips down, a sure sign he's climbed back into his shell.

"What time is it?" Andrea asks lifting his eyes to meet hers once again with the same index finger under the chin.

Neil pushes himself up to see the clock over the back of the sofa. "Seven."

"I've gotta work today." Andrea sighs knowing she can't make this last.

"Don't go." He replies, tone serious.

"Am I hearing right?" Andrea teases. "The big, bad DI wants me to call in sick."

"Or don't call in at all."

"Neil!" She exclaims her mouth a large 'O', surprised at his attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Let's spend the day together."

"You must have taken a bad knock to the head last night." Andrea isn't sure if he's kidding or not.

"Suit yourself." Neil shrugs which only spurs Andrea on.

"Alright here I go." The smile cannot be wiped off her face as she gets off the sofa heading to the phone.

* * *

"It's done." Andrea announces once she's given her excuses. Neil is standing behind the sofa smiling. It dawns on her there's something she should have considered before making the call but it didn't occur to her till this point. The smile that reflects Neil's drains from her face. "What about your wife?"

In the beginning there was a mutual understanding about what they expected from one another. It wasn't as if Andrea cared about Philippa's comings and going, but he'd used her so many times as a reason not to see Andrea.

"I rang her from outside the flat and told her the raid had gone badly and I wouldn't be home till this evening. She's got a big case on that she's barely lifted her head out of in the past few weeks anyway."

"Won't she call you during the day?"

"She never calls for any reason; emergencies are what I have a mobile for." His face having returned to neutral while he explained, regains a smile.

"Were you really watching me sleep this morning?" Head tilted Andrea feels a smile of her own light up her face. She steps into his arms capturing him around his waist.

"That and listening to you snore." He grins.

"I do not!" She protests pulling herself closer to him.

"You sounded like this." Neil explains following with a sound resembling a combination of heavy breathing and a farm pig.

"That's it!" Andrea puts on a mock serious face and wiggles from his embrace.

"You're so easy to wind up." Neil laughs. Andrea brings his hands behind his back as if he were to be arrested for making false accusations against a police officer. The joke goes no further as Neil flinches and pulls out of her loose grip. "Easy."

"Neil what's wrong?" The fun is over and Andrea worries somewhat. When he's less than forthcoming, she pulls off his tie and makes quick work of the buttons on his shirt. She exposes the shoulder that caused Neil to wince, shocked to see the extent of the purple bruising.

"It's not as bad as it seems." Neil tries to cover.

"Sure it isn't Neil." Andrea retorts studying his eyes. Something tells her to remove the shirt altogether. There are four other bruises the size of her fist on his front and six on his back.

"Someone beat you badly." Andrea says running her hand over the bruise on his abdomen. Her eyes, looking at his, tear up, threatening to overflow.

"I'll live." he replies slowly capturing her lips with his. They make love being tender with his wounds but not deterred by them.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Berries. Traffic. Breathing. That scent. Spooned around Andrea, Neil balances delicately between waking and sleep. The muffled sounds of the traffic invade their intimacy. Her dark hair tickles his cheek and a fresh scent travels to his brain where it's deciphered as berries, her shampoo. But there's another scent, less powerful but more intoxicating. He slides closer to her, burying his face in her neck just behind her shoulder. The scent is no perfume he recognises.

"What perfume do you wear?" He's not even sure she's awake.

"Getting a jump start on Christmas?" Her voice is husky, the way he loves it. "I don't wear perfume."

Neil sighs; it's no artificial mask, just the scent of Andrea.

"I'm going to have a shower." He kisses her neck but before he can extract himself from the bed she turns over to face him.

"You should go home." She smiles. "You don't have to spend the day with me, this has been wonderful."

"I'm going to go home and change, but I'll be back to pick you up."

* * *

Self-consciously Andrea pulls the hem of her dress closer to her knees. She swivels in the black leather chair of Neil's car to place her jacket on the back seat. The last time she was here she let everything get to her and ended up hauling butt out in tears. They were also in a relatively private situation; Andrea can feel judging eyes from the people in the cars that pass them. 

"You're fidgety, is there anything wrong?" Neil asks as he negotiates a lane change. "Am I sailing too close to the wind for you?"

"Sailing on top of it might best describe this situation." Andrea replies as Neil slows the car for a red light.

"Relax Andrea." His eyes shift from the road to her.

"Neil are you feeling alright, I mean are you sure you didn't take a knock to the head last night? It's not that I mind, it's just that you're usually so protective of where and how we're seen together." She feels genuinely confused.

Neil is about to respond when a wail of a siren reaches their ears - Andrea grabs her jacket. She throws it over her head and slides down in the seat simultaneously. The siren passes by them; Neil's laughter fills the silence as the siren fades. When she slides back up the chair, Neil coaxes her lips to his with a tender hand on the back of her neck. His kiss is passionate and reassuring. The horn from the vehicle behind them sounds, impatiently alerting them to the light that is now green.

Neil's eyes linger on hers, drawing another horn from the car behind. He accelerates slowly, resting his now free hand in hers.

"Neil this is so out of character." Andrea's voice is laced with concern.

"I just want to spend some time with you." Neil explains squeezing her hand for reassurance. Andrea leaves it at that for three blocks and then something comes to her.

"Was there a moment you thought you were going to die last night?" Her voice is a whisper, betraying her apprehension at asking the question.

His reply is silence, a telling silence. Andrea just doesn't know what it's telling her.

* * *

"Neil where are we going?" Andrea asks it feels as though they've been driving for hours, the silence dragging the second hand, in reality they haven't left London. She receives no reply, his face bearing no expression; she slips her hand from his and places it on the back of his neck. "Why can't you talk to me?" 

The car glides on making light work of the city streets; meanwhile the anger builds in Andrea.

"Stop the car." She says softly. "Stop the car, let me out. Stop the car, I'm getting out." Her voice is raised now, anger at the surface.

Neil complies slipping the golden vehicle easily into an available spot.

"Talk to me Neil or I'm putting the window down and screaming kidnap to anyone out there who isn't so self absorbed that they'll listen." Her tender touch is gone from the back of his neck; her body facing him in the seat is tensed. She waits for a reply, tired of playing guessing games since early this morning. Fleetingly she thinks her shift at work wouldn't have been this complex.

"Can we have this conversation later Andrea?" Neil relaxes back into the chair; his expression has the slightest hint of business as usual.

"No we can't." Andrea replies incredulously. "This is not fun for me Neil."

"Please, I have a day planned for us, a fun day and it involves talking later in the afternoon but I don't want to bypass the good stuff." He nods over her shoulder and smiles again. Before she can answer he's out of the car and rounding to her door. She stares at the bright market stalls, transfixed in her seat.

"How did you know?" She asks as he offers her a hand to get out of the car.

"I heard you talking to Yvonne." It was true, she'd found these markets when exploring the city - a day off work had granted a new resident of London an opportunity to explore.

"That was a private conversation." She chides him, smile written on her face.

"Just doing my research." He grins shyly. She steps off towards the busy vendors. Behind her the car alarm beeps and she hears Neil catch up to her, what she doesn't expect is a warm arm snaking around her waist. She follows, surprised at the public display of affection that culminates with a kiss on the forehead. Inside her head she scolds herself; this is what she wants...isn't it? So why can't the niggling feeling in the pit of her stomach be appeased?

* * *

"Oh no!" Andrea giggles as Neil lifts a tie from the rack at the stall they're standing at; it's literally pink with purple polka dots. It had taken her four market stalls to relax. The first one they moved on quickly from, hand crafted wooden children's toys - a topic neither wanted to touch. They'd browsed casually through the local artists work and the painted pottery but it was the ties in the fourth stall where she'd started to have fun. 

"What it's not my colour?" He mocks holding the tie in front of his dark shirt.

"I think they'd pad a cell in custody for you, for your own safety." Andrea laughs running her hands down the bright material.

A sneaky look crosses his face as he gently places the tie around Andrea's neck. Neil's head tilts left and right, smile infectious. He pulls gently on the tie inching her head to his. Andrea meets him the rest of the way, the tie going slack in his hands. A loud clearing of the throat interrupts them. The stall owner stares at them, giggling Andrea returns the tie to its rack.

"This is you." She slides the navy necktie from its spot and holds it against Neil's shirt. "We'll take it." She says before Neil can react she pulls money from her purse.

"You didn't have to do that." It's Neil's way of saying thank you. His arms wrap around her waist, lips nuzzling at her neck.

"Let's get out of here before he calls the morality police." Andrea jokes but it falls flat. Neither of them is thinking of the kissing in public but their larger situation. "Sorry."

* * *

Andrea's eyes drift to the left towards the fresh produce, on the other end of her hand Neil is moving right. She looks down to where her hands are joined and back to the fresh produce. "I'm going to browse through the..." 

"Sporting memorabilia." Neil finishes pointing to his right.

"Meet you in the middle when we're done."

Andrea picks up the basics she needs to stock up the fridge and considers the variety of jams before paying for her purchases. When she turns Neil is waiting for her, bag in hand with a big grin on his face.

"What'd you get?" Andrea smiles slipping her hand into his. He holds up his purchase, through the clear bag Andrea can see the title.

"The Everton Football Club Annuals." She reads off the front.

"You been to a game?" He asks as they walk on.

"Me, football, no." Andrea laughs.

"I'll take you to a game one day." Neil promises. Andrea doesn't comment putting her thoughts to the back of her head.

* * *

"You done yet?" Neil asks as the curtain wiggles. 

"Hang on." Andrea replies before pushing the curtain aside. She models the blue skirt, twirling in front of him. "Well what do you think?"

Neil steps back, a studious look on his face. He loves the way the skirt curves over her hips and shows just enough leg to tease him. Continuing to mock he strokes his chin.

"It's not a piece of art." Andrea prompts him for a comment.

Neil steps into her, tracing the contours of her hips gently with his hands. Cheek to cheek Neil breathes in her scent and whispers in her ear. "It looks so good I can't wait to take it off you."

A little stunned it takes a moment for Andrea's legs to work again. By the time she's changed, Neil has paid for the skirt. The stall owner slips the skirt into a bag and hands it to Neil.

They bypass a few stalls, coming closer to the end of the markets.

"You know what I feel like...ice cream." Andrea indicates to the van up ahead.

* * *

"I didn't pick you for a chocolate girl." Neil offers pointing to the bench nearby. 

"Really." Andrea replies surprised.

"Yeah, something feistier like rum and raisin." Neil suggests.

"Chocolate is the original and the best." Andrea affirms taking another bite, spreading the dairy treat over her top lip.

Their bodies speak volumes, angled towards each other on the bench with legs crossed and just touching. Neil waits till Andrea goes for the last bite before the cone, launching his lips to hers as they wrestle for the smooth and sweet food.

Their warm tongues mingle with the chill of ice cream, Neil making sure he cleans up the last on her lips. The passion steps up and the cone drops from Andrea's hands which cup Neil's face.

"I'm sorry." She laughs looking at the upside down cone on the thigh of his pants. Without fuss he cleans up.

"That was good." She thanks him.

"What was?" He asks as she joins him to head back through the markets. "The ice cream, the kiss or the stain on my pants?"

"I don't know." She teases. "Remind me of the kiss again."

* * *

"I enjoyed that thanks." Andrea reaches for Neil's hand; he smiles but doesn't take his eyes off the road. The silence is comfortable till Neil pulls the car up on a street that is nondescript other than a small, bright blue delicatessen. 

"Don't go away I'll be right back." Neil promises and dashes across the road. When he comes out of the delicatessen he's carrying a picnic basket, a grin painted on his face. He slides into his seat in the manner of James Bond and angles the basket onto the back seat. Andrea doesn't make eye contact, trying to suppress her laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" Neil asks with a pinch of hurt in his voice.

"I'm not." Andrea protests but can't hold her laugh in any longer.

"What?" Neil flicks his head to glimpse Andrea.

"Nothing." She continues to laugh. "We'll you've surprised me today, it's not hidden depth more like hidden normality that you've shown today. What've you done with the Neil Manson who stomps around CID all day?"

"Gotta let people know whose boss Andrea or they'll walk all over you." Neil replies matter-of-factly. "You can't run a CID full of people who take long lunches and have their own agenda. I can bend over backwards to get to know details as minute as toilet paper hanging preference - away or close to the loo - of every person in that office but it won't make a scrap of difference to their work performance. I can drink every night in the pub with CID but it won't guarantee they'll respect me. I might be an excessively driven, ambitious and a cold ladder climbing bastard to them but they all work hard for me and more importantly the public."

"What you see isn't necessarily what you get with you though is it Neil."

"You've seen that today." Neil nods. "I can be one book very different to its cover, not often just sometimes." Andrea leaves it at that.

"So where are we going now?"

"Picnic." He replies glancing at the side mirror.

"So is this how you won over Philippa, with shopping and good food?" Andrea asks then stops.

Neil doesn't dare meet her eyes and clears his throat to vocalise his discomfort with the comment.

"I'm so sorry that's twice I've put my foot in it. I've got foot in mouth disease...stupid."

"I'm not upset." Neil reassures her squeezing a hand over her knee. "I should tell you about Philippa and I."

"Neil, I'm sorry you don't have to."

"I want to Andrea."

Neil glides the car around the next left corner, slowly searching for a place to stop. "We're eating here?" Andrea surveys the high walls, not a spec of grass in sight.

"You'll see." Neil promises slipping the car into a free space. He reaches for the picnic basket and asks Andrea to wait while he rounds the car to open her door. Hand in hand they cross the street walking parallel to the ivy-covered wall.

"You're not going to ask me to climb that are you?" Andrea surveys the iron gate.

"Nope, better idea." Neil lets go of her hand and pulls a key from his pocket. It fits neatly in the lock and opens them into a private garden.

"Neil these are private grounds." Andrea whispers.

"I know." Neil whispers back mocking her. "But you see that building up ahead, I own a flat in it and rent it to this lovely retired couple...I thought we could have some privacy here."

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

"You were going to tell me about Philippa." Andrea prompts as they settle into lunch.

"Philippa." Neil repeats lifting the focaccia from the basket. "We met in our final year of school at one of those dances where the boys' school and the girls' school socialise. We were both high achievers, she was smarter than me...still is. We were both so ambitious we didn't really see each other; I don't think I knew what girls were and she boys. So our friends pushed us along...we were both more concerned about career direction than the direction of our personal lives. We helped each other study and pass assignments; we'd eat meals at odd hours and sometimes wouldn't see each other for days. The library was our second home. I don't know how we stayed together, maybe we thought no one else would put up with the way we lived our lives. When I next looked up her parents were asking when we were going to marry and my parents were wondering also. If it hadn't have been for them we'd probably still be living in sin, not that you could call our conflicting hours a marriage. We both put in long hours to be where we are today and it was as if we were room mates the way we saw each other every second day or were too tired at night to have regular marital relations." Listening intently Andrea layers her focaccia with fillings and condiments.

"Our parents and friends started to ask when the children were coming, neither of us had strong feelings against having kids. I knew there would only ever be one because neither of us would be happy to let go of what we'd worked for. Philippa went back to work six weeks after having our son, but Colin saved us from a life of total selfishness and we did slow down... a small amount, but mostly we've become less self centred." Neil takes a bite of his lunch, thinking as he chews.

"I love her and she loves me, we've done the right thing by each other, love, honour, cherish, raised a child but I've been wondering if she'd really be that upset about a divorce...I mean really deep down because it's almost as though we're friends with...what's that thing Honey says?"

"Friends with privileges." Andrea fills in.

"A divorce would be amicable on my part and I think on hers, I know I said I love her and I do, but I don't think we're in love with each other anymore, maybe we never were."

"You said you're ambitious, is that why you are the way you are when it comes to the DCI's job?" Andrea asks carefully.

"That's my father." Neil answers simply, taking another bite.

"Your father." Andrea encourages. "What did he do?"

"He was so smug when I was growing up, he was head of cardiology." Neil's facial features darken. "So unsupportive, every achievement of mine there was always something I did wrong on the way to getting it or there was something bigger and better I had to go for the please him. He had absolutely no faith in my ability and I was never worthy of his praise."

"Sounds tough." Andrea comments and seconds later realises how lame the comment sounded.

"I never felt any expectations to follow my father or emulate his success; if I had I'd have gone into medicine and walked in his footsteps. But I've always had a drive in me that I wanted to show him I could be as successful and achieve what he had or more without his involvement. He always said the only job more important than his were those who live with the possibility everyday that their life might be traded for total strangers. His job was to save lives but there was never a chance his would be sacrificed in the process."

"He was talking about police officers." Andrea comments but doesn't add her thoughts about the rumours of Neil's career assistance from the Deputy Assistant Commissioner.

"Or fire fighters, armed services or emergency technicians."

"I've been doing this for the majority of my life, to prove him wrong. To reach that magical point where I am worthy of his praise, the top of the MET ladder."

"Does it still matter now; you're a grown man with your own life?"

"No it doesn't but it still does to a small part inside of me. The scary thing is I've questioned if I've ever made a choice of my own or has his attitude put me onto whatever path I'm on."

"Does that mean you would never have been a cop? You said you didn't go into medicine because you never felt the need to emulate his success."

"No, I love being a cop."

"So you have made a choice." Andrea reminds him and then tells herself she was a choice Neil made, a small one to those choices that lie ahead.

The sunlight strains through the trees, open spaces creating a patchwork on the grass that covered the expanse of the garden. They eat the rest of their lunch in silence.

* * *

"Are you happy Andrea?" It had been a long time since either had spoken; she'd been lying comfortably in his arms since they'd cleaned out the picnic basket. She thought for a moment before committing and lifting her head. 

"Generally or this?" She queries now lying on her side, arm supporting her head. Her free hand indicates to herself and Neil.

"Us." Neil replies changing her label. Andrea takes a moment, considering her answer. Before she can get it out Neil adds. "I love you Andrea."

Her head spins a little but her heart is clear on what it wants to say. "I love you too Neil." His face softens at the response, allowing a small smile to creep in. "Is that enough?" She adds unexpectedly.

"Your question has a time frame." Andrea says softly. "Right now I am, but in the future..."

"You think you'll want more." Neil finishes for her.

"No, I mean yes, I mean yes and no." Andrea muddles. "I had a dream this morning before you got to the door. You were being prosecuted for adultery by your wife and I was in the witness box and we were surrounded by our friends and colleagues who were judging..." Her voice fades to silence and Neil waits for her to continue.

"Fact is you're not free to love me as I am you and it doesn't matter what the mitigating circumstances are, like you haven't talked to your wife in a month, you're still not free and..." Andrea looks across his shoulder gathering what she wants to say. "I'm not feeling guilty yet and I should have from the very first kiss and I question the type of person I am for not having feelings of guilt, but I am going to soon - that dream last night was just the start...and then I'm plagued by doubts that today is just compensation for me because you're whisking Philippa off to some romantic spot in France after you've left me."

"I promise you that's not the case." Neil says solidly. "The reason you don't feel guilty is because this is not sordid or tacky, we're not meeting in cheap hotels or in the back of the car and we love each other. I know you'll want more because I will too; it's a natural progression when two people are in a relationship."

Andrea sighs and makes sure she looks him in the eyes as she says what she has to next. "This is not a relationship Neil; as long as you're married this will only ever be sex."

It stings a little but deep down she knows he knows it too. "We don't do other things couples do, we can't. We don't talk about normal couple things, we don't share mutual friends and socialise with them. I can't talk to anyone about what we've got and how I feel for you, we can't celebrate our feelings for one another. When there's rough patch I can't lean on my friends and get their advice or sympathy. In fact our lives really don't cross at all, we share a bed and a place of work that's all and we don't have the opportunity to mesh them." Although in herself Andrea feels better for having said what she has, she knows Neil may be hurting.

"I tried to give us a normal day as a couple today." Neil reminds her.

"And I had a fabulous time." Andrea thanks him. "But today has been a mirage, a trip to Disney World, a brief break in reality because tomorrow it'll be back to DI Manson and PC Dunbar and being careful how we're seen together. I'm grateful for today Neil as I am whenever we're together but we've basically come as far away as we can from the places where we might run into people we know. We're not going to cross the city each time we want to do something simple like catch a movie."

"I'll leave Philippa for you, just say the word." Neil offers and Andrea feels obligated to smile and kiss him. Anytime a man genuinely puts that offer on the table, it's taken a lot to speak the words and mean it.

"This can't be easy for you." Andrea offers. "I only have to satisfy myself, you...you have a wife, children, work and a girlfriend all demanding something of you. Where does what Neil wants come in?" His head bows, nodding on the way down to acknowledge her point.

"It doesn't matter what I want or not, ultimately it's up to you, it's your decision because you have to leave and hurt people. It won't be just your immediate family, you could lose friends over this who don't approve of your decision."

"I'll start over." Neil compensates and Andrea smiles. "With your token younger wife, your prize younger wife people will say."

"We can't offer each other guarantees. We share an intimacy that ends at the bedroom door, I don't know much about you, what if we can't live together, if we're just too incompatible. I honestly don't know that I'd say yes if you asked me to marry you today. The most frightening thing is we can't guarantee if you get a divorce that we'll stay together. People fall out of love everyday, you said you had with Philippa and suddenly you might find yourself with nothing."

"You don't paint a rosy picture." Neil says absently.

"I'm trying to be level headed, sensible and to come out with the best outcome for both of us and the other people in our lives that are going to be affected by the decisions we make."

"That's a dream Andrea."

She returns to her former position, resting against Neil's chest. She can't look at him as she says, "I know I'll be the one to end up crying even though I have the least to lose and the least people to hurt."

His arms around her slide in tighter as she draws patterns with her index finger on his chest. "I do love you Neil, more than anyone ever before." A tear springs into the corner of her eye.

* * *

At her front door, Andrea fumbles to get the key in and unlock the door. It's early evening, time for Cinderella to flee the ball before the carriage turns into a pumpkin and the fairytale night is over - Neil has to go home to his family. She begins to step over the threshold to her apartment but chooses to lean against the doorframe instead. 

"Should I come in?" Neil looks vulnerable.

"I want you to...so you'd better not." Andrea rationalises. Neil's goodbye kisses are soft and sweet but soon swells with passion, arms wrapping around to hold each other tight.

"You'd better go." Andrea says breaking the kiss but remaining wrapped around him. He sighs and Andrea knows what it's for, there's no better feeling than holding each other. But she can feel herself weakening and the desire to let him come inside is stronger.

He takes the steps one at a time, Andrea watches till he disappears. Once he's out of sight she lets the tears fall freely.

* * *

4:21 the clock ticks over, still wide awake. Andrea realises the significance of the time. About 24 hours earlier Neil stood outside her door. She pushes images of him sleeping next to his wife from her minds eye. 

The bedside lamp cuts through the night darkness allowing Andrea to search her underwear drawer. Her press pass is well hidden; she takes it back to bed with her turning it over and over in her hand once darkness dominates the room again.

She recalls the afternoon having told Neil it was his decision about the two of them and he had people to hurt. The truth is she had a decision to make, one that could hurt him. Suddenly there were doubts in her mind about her being the one to be crying with the least people to hurt.

She could resign her position at the MET taking the risk that Neil would never trust her again let alone want to see her. Or she could continue using her journalistic skills at the MET that she'd impressed her superiors with. It was a job she was starting to love and one she felt better about than digging up dirt on a man who'd done nothing other than being born with the wrong coloured skin, a man she respected. Bruce was becoming more demanding and manipulating and the pressure was building on her.

Either way, Andrea knew she had to strike first. Should Neil start divorce proceedings and she told him where her loyalties currently lie, he could end up with nothing - no wife, children or girlfriend. Breaking up his family for her was not to be rewarded with an admission of her betrayal. Fleetingly she realised she could end up with nothing as well and no journalistic glory was worth losing Neil over.

She slips the press pass under her pillow and like the princess and the pea she doesn't sleep well that night.

* * *

"Hey, you feeling better?" Yvonne greets her the next day in the locker room. 

"Yeah, just one of those 24 hour things." Andrea lies, how easily they roll off her tongue.

"You picked your day, missed out on all the action." Yvonne tells her enthusiastically. Andrea can feel a gossip coming on. "The raid went badly." She emphasises. "The DI came back in a bad way."

"Oh really." Yvonne finally has her attention.

"DI Manson was kicking doors in upstairs in the club with Rob Thatcher when Rob sprints off because he thinks he sees David Radford."

"Was it the Radford's club you raided?" Andrea asks.

"No, but you know DC Thatcher, even the scent of a Radford and he's like a dog chasing a bone."

"Yeah." Andrea agrees it's becoming clearer to her that Rob is responsible for Neil's beating.

"So the DI continues to investigate alone till he's hit over the head when entering a room. He's dragged in; door locked after him and is bashed with a bat."

"Sounds as though he could have died." Andrea's eyes mist over.

"When the DCI burst into the room the guy had the bat and was going for the DI's head." As Yvonne continues the story Honey enters.

"He was acting strange when he came back to the station. He wouldn't let anyone take him to St Hughes and he went as quickly through debrief as possible. It was as if he desperately had to be someplace." Honey fills in.

"Gabriel was just outside telling anyone who'd listen to him that it couldn't have happened to a nicer person." Yvonne contributes with disgust.

"No one deserves what DI Manson got last night." Honey agrees finally securing her watch to her wrist. "You coming?" She waits holding the door open.

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in a minute." Andrea says, not yet out of her street clothes.

Staring at the pastel painted wall opposite her, Andrea takes stock. She decides her life is a mess and she can see no clear way out of it.

* * *

To Be Continued…in the next story. www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net(slash)s(slash)2486705(slash)1 


End file.
